


You're Not Going Without Me

by m1shac0ll1ns



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Africa AU, Angst, Death penalty, Heavy Angst, M/M, Poor Castiel, Poor Dean, Poor Novaks, Poor Winchesters, Poverty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 00:53:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3509087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m1shac0ll1ns/pseuds/m1shac0ll1ns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The law is simple; you kill someone you must meet that sacrifice by giving your own life. A country where any murder will get you sentenced to death.<br/>The Novaks and the Winchesters are two families living in the huge poverty of this country, so what happens when they are pushed to stealing food and it all goes horribly wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Not Going Without Me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm imagining the setting of this being similar to African slums but it isn't set in a particular country.  
> I will warn you now, this is will get angsty, so if you're not an angst person I wouldn't recommend it.
> 
> Just so you have an idea of the ages I'm imagining them (since with big families it can get confusing):  
> Cas&Dean are 18  
> Sam is 15  
> Gabriel is 19  
> Michael is 23  
> Balthazar is 17  
> Raphael is 16 (yeah I needed him to be younger than Cas for the fic to work)  
> Luci is 10 (and female)  
> Anna is 5
> 
> Made up currency too: 100 gamels to 1 dollar

"Pass it, pass it! Come on, pass the bloody ball Dean!" Sam yelled across the makeshift pitch.  
"Hahaha! Hell no, Sammy! I will take this to the goal!"  
The ball hit the back of the net and Dean ran around the pitch mimicking a screaming crowd, "Ahhh, ahhh! He shoots and he scores! Come on Sammy, quit scowling like it's the end of the world!"  
Castiel just rolled on his back laughing at his best friend. He had quit the game a while a go for preference of watching and enjoying the sunshine.  
Suddenly Dean flopped down next to him. "What are you laughing at?" He said, pretending to be hurt, "I would like to see you play any better. That ball is my bitch." He grinned and propped himself up on one elbow, so he could look at his friend. Cas punched him lightly on the arm and he fell back, but Dean retaliated and, in an instant, had him play wrestling.  
Finally, Dean got Cas pinned between his legs, his hands holding the slighter boy's wrists down so Cas couldn't move. In this position, Dean had to bite back the urge to kiss the defiant look off his captive's face.  
"Hey, that was no fair. We both know you're the strongest. I call unfair advantage." Cas' deep voice broke into Dean's thought stream and he rolled off the boy in a fit of laughter. "You just can't take the fact that I kicked your ass." Dean's eyes met Cas' with a grin and soon they both lay back laughing. 

"Hey you two! Get a room!" Gabriel approached them from the shanty town. Dean chose to ignore how his little brother's eyes lit up at his approach. "Heya, Sammy" Gabriel smiled at the 15 year old, who wouldn't let another soul call him Sammy unless it was Dean or Gabriel. Not even Cas passed the test.  
Gabriel moved on, continuing his approach to where Dean and Cas lay in the sun. "Cassie, you're needed back at the hut. Michael is run off his feet trying to look after everyone but Raphi is being a moody teenager, Anna won't stop crying and Balthazar and Luci are having a 'heated discussion' about who gets the last of last night's stew. You're the third oldest, you need to come and help."  
There was a pause whilst Cas reluctantly heaved himself up to a sitting position. Cupping his hand to his forehead to block out the sun's glare, he asked; "How are we for food?"  
"Not good Cassie. We are looking at an empty cupboard, seven mouths to feed, and Michael can't get to market until Saturday."  
"Crap," Dean cut in to the conversation. "Not looking good, huh? Look, me and Sammy have some spare leftovers. If we ration ourselves, we got enough that will last you tomorrow. One day better right?"  
"Thank you Dean but really, we can't steal from you..."  
"Cas, I'm offering. Come on, we will swing by my hut and get something for your hungry mouths."  
Castiel nodded in defeat. He knew by now arguing with his friend was useless and he couldn't help but think of the ribs that were showing on Anna, or how thin Balthazar's arms were looking lately. Since their mum died of malaria and all the fathers had gone off to fight in some unnamed conflict, things hadn't been good in the Novak hut. Dean Winchester was about the only thing that kept him sane some days.  
The party of four trudged down to Dean's tiny hut, where he looked after Sammy. As they walked in Dean noticed the tin roof was coming apart again. He would have to repair that before the rainy season.  
Dean and Sam's mum had been taken by the sickness and his father, by the war. But every family round here shared a similar story of lost parents and siblings looking after siblings. Most just got on, each to their own family, but some families chose to stick together, the Winchesters and the Novaks being an example.  
Dean opened his larder, cringing at how empty it looked, but right at the back, as he had suspected, were five dusty tins of something grim. He reached in and pulled them out. The week's provisions.  
"Here, you take four and me and Sammy can last on one until market day."  
"We'll take two maximum, Dean. I am not going to deprive you." Dean laughed at his blue-eyed friends stern expression, it was one of his favourites.  
"Fine, three. That's my final offer. You got a bigger family to feed, you need more." In the end, it was Gabriel who broke their staring competition and took the tins from Dean's hand. "Thanks Dean. Sammy. We better get back or Michael'll be thinking we all left him to play futbol." He smiled and then pushed Cas towards the exit. "See ya round, Winchesters."  
Dean watched as his best friend walked out the door and sighed. Times were tough at the moment and his friend seemed to be losing weight by the day. Perhaps so was he.  
He fixed on a smile as he turned to his brother though, "Come on Sammy, let's get our dinner. You're becoming all skin and bone, look at you." He pushed Sammy to the table and, after heating up half the strange contents of the tin, poured brown sludge on his brother's plate. "Doesn't this look delightful." He laughed at his brother's disgusted face.

*****

Saturday came, finally, and after five days of rationing, both families were looking forward to stocking up their larders. 

"Okay, okay, calm down! I need everyone's change, whatever you have made this week. We need enough for a week's worth of food." As per general Market Day routine, Michael shouted over the rabble of his family, in order to gather together enough money for their provisions.  
"Here's mine from the wood selling."  
"Only 112 gamels, Gabriel?"  
"It wasn't a good week."  
"Here." Raphael chucked a bunch of coins onto the table. "210 from selling SIMs in the city."  
Luci then cut in and dropped a large pile of notes on the table. "I think you'll find there's 100'030 there." There was a moment of shocked silence, before Michael asked; "Where the hell did you get these, Luce?"  
"I didn't steal them if that's what you're thinking." Everyone was looking at her now and she milked the attention, as always. "I found them. Sat in a box at the bottom of the old brick building in the city."  
"Crap, that's the hospital charity fund Luci. That is stealing."  
"Finders Keepers."  
"Luce, we can't spend these. You'd better take them back this afternoon." Michael pushed notes back into the bag they came from. Luci grabbed it and stormed off in a sulk. Sighing and putting his head in his hands, Michael continued, "What about you, Balthazar? Cas?"  
"Here. I only got 200 this week. The cheapskates in the city got me selling handsets for 15 gamels a piece. Sorry Mikey, it was the best I could do." Balthazar tossed his meagre pile of coins onto the table.  
"It's something, Balthazar. Cas?"  
"I volunteer at the hospice Michael. I don't get paid. All I have is 56 in pity funds." Cas sighed and placed them in a careful pile on the table. This week hadn't been good for work. Normally Cas would go round the city doing small jobs for people after his day shift at the hospice, but nobody had wanted his help this time. The economy just kept getting worse.  
Suddenly Anna burst through, "Mikey, Mikey! Look what I got! Ms Milton gave me these for my help this week." Anna threw 3 coins, a white button and an old badge-pin on the table with great pride and a huge childish grin on her face. Cas would admit for a second her childishness cheered him up.  
Michael sighed again. He was exhausted. "Okay. With what I made, I make that 873 gamels, a button and a badge-pin." He looked at the sorry pile in despair. "With that we might be able to get enough to last til Wednesday. If we're lucky." 

*****

Cas sat atop the one hill that overlooked the shanty town. He could see all the cracked tin roofs, the makeshift walls and the crap the ran through the streets. He could make out the people that sat outside their homes or walked the streets, most of them so young, all looking too thin and too beaten. And yet on the horizon, like a call to an impossible dream, stood the great city with its tower blocks that stood tall, its luxury apartments and its parties for the rich.  
Sometimes this view made Cas so angry, and other times it made him so calm. He couldn't tell which today. Suddenly he heard a cough behind him, breaking him from his reverie. He looked up and there stood his best friend with bright green eyes that matched Cas' expression, somewhere torn between hope and despair.  
"May I join you?" Dean asked. Cas just nodded. He never did say much when he was in a thoughtful mood, and for a while they just sat in comfortable silence, watching the people, like ants, move beneath them. They weren't supposed to be up there but they would never be caught; the authorities just didn't care enough. 

After around half an hour of just sitting together, comforted by being with the other, Dean finally felt something build inside him. There was something he needed to talk to someone about and Cas, he knew, was the only one who would listen and understand. So he spoke, his voice shaking slightly:

"Cas. I think my brother has the sickness."

There was a pause that felt like a lifetime before Dean felt Cas' blue eyes piercing through him. He knew they would be laced with concern and Dean just couldn't bring himself to meet the gaze. 

"Dean, that - I - Crap - Sorry Dean." Cas didn't know what to say. How do you respond when your best friend has just told you his brother and only family is practically on an extended death sentence?  
He never was any good with words so instead he reached tentatively for Dean's hand. When he found it he held it tight and felt Dean curve his fingers through his; the sign that his simple gesture was lightening the load on Dean's heart just a little. 

For a while they sat like that, just holding hands, and everything was okay. Then they heard a melancholy sound resonating from the town. Like a low wail, they both knew exactly what the song meant. It was the song of mourning. 

_O Child of Adam, Child of Eve_

"It was the Harvelle's girl, Jo. I hear she was accused of a murder in the city but, as far as I know, she's never been there." 

_You stood there too long._

"She was 15, Dean."

_You were taken too easily_

I know, Cas. She didn't deserve it."  
After a while, Dean took up the melancholy tune that crept up the hillside to meet them. 

_O midnight,  
Why take my child from me?_

Cas listened to Dean's gruff voice as it intertwined with that of the desperate people below.

_Did I stand there too long?  
She was taken too easily._

The song ended and Dean's clutch on Cas' hand tightened as he tried to fight back the tears threatening to leave his body. Cas shuffled closer to Dean, knowing that was the best he could do to comfort his friend.

The spent the best part of two hours sat on the hill, not saying a word. They didn't need to. Cas's head rested lightly on Dean's shoulder and, for a moment, they both forgot themselves as they watched the sunset. Until, finally, the sun disappeared over the horizon and they had to make their way back to their hungry families.

*****

Another dry month went past. Dry of both money and water. Their skin retreated further and further towards their bones, such that even Dean, as muscle bound as he was, could see his ribs defined against his chest.  
It was his friend who worried him most though. Every time Dean saw Cas he looked thinner and thinner. Soon he would waste away to nothing.  
Dean was well aware of what Cas was doing, however; passing up meals so that his younger siblings could eat. He saw Gabriel and Michael doing it too, though perhaps less so as you couldn't see their ribs through their clothing yet. 

Dean tried to talk to him about it but he was seeing less and less of Cas and the Novaks as time went by as he was so preoccupied with looking after Sammy. Sammy who was looking frail, like not a single meal they ate was going into him. Some days he would seem fine, insisting on going out of the house and playing futbol like they used to. These were the good days, the days Dean looked forward to. Other days, however he wouldn't get out of bed, could hardly swallow and, sometimes, at his scariest, even forgot Dean's name. These were the worst days, the days Dean dreaded. Sam's time was running out and it showed. It was on one of the latter of these days that the door to his hut was slammed open. Dean, caught off guard by the sudden noise, spun round ready to fight anything that came through that door. It was lucky he didn't throw any punches, however, as, when he turned, he found himself face to face with a very concerned looking Gabriel holding a briefcase, and behind him shone the worried looking blue eyes of Castiel, and it would be wrong of Dean to say that this sight didn't brighten his day just a little.  
"Uh, Dean, sorry for barging in on you like this. We didn't mean to surprise you. I told him to knock. It's just that, um, Gabriel trained with a doctor for a while, when we could afford it, and he has some, um, stuff that might help Sam." Cas rubbed the back of his neck like a nervous tick and Dean couldn't help but find it endearing. Despite having no idea what the boy was talking about, he was glad he was here. 

Gabriel pushed past Dean and strode over to the bedside, where Sammy lay. He wasn't about to stand there while Winchester had eye sex with his brother, when taller, younger Winchester was in trouble. Gabriel was well aware there was no cure for the sickness but he knew how to stem it, how to prolong the life of the poor boy lying in front of him. When he had trained as a doctor (in the three months before his father left and he had to return to his family) he had made a point of stealing these drugs. AIDs was all too common in the slums and he had figured they might come in handy. That was two years ago now.  
"Heya Sammy. Can you see me?" His heart lifted a bit when the boy turned his head to look at him, but the eyes were wrought with pain, and that only made Gabriel feel worse.  
"Gabriel?" Sammy smiled as best he could.  
"Yeah Sammy, its me. I'm gonna help you out, ok? You just gotta trust me and take these pills. They will make the pain go away." He cupped the boys face with his hand as he wiped the sweat away with a cloth in the other; something Dean had been doing for days since Sammy's fever hit. After this he called to Dean asking if he had any water. Dean looked sheepish and replied that he hadn't been down to well for looking after Sammy. This warranted a quick discussion between Cas and Dean which ended in them _both_ going to the well to fetch water, leaving Gabriel to tend to Sammy for a while.

As Cas and Dean walked back from the well, water barrels carefully balanced on their heads, Dean finally found opportunity to talk to his friend. "Cas, you gotta know that you can't go on like this, right?"  
"Like what Dean? I'm not sure I understand."  
"Like giving your food away and always putting others before yourself."  
"You put Sam first?" Cas tried to do the thing where he cocks his head to the right to show his confusion, clearly forgetting he had a barrel on his head. As the thing tumbled towards the ground Cas caught it just in time but he almost fell over in the process. Dean didn't try hard to bite back his laughter but he would never admit that he actually thought it was kinda adorable. Cas looked at him, smiled with mild embarrassment, and had to look away again, two hands on the barrel this time. He wasn't about to admit how happy Dean's laughter made him either and instead opted to not say anything at all.  
It was Dean who broke the silence again by reverting back to the previous conversation, "It's different with Sammy though, I provide for us both to have just enough but he's dying, man. Crap, I hate saying those words out loud, but it's true. Then you'll be all I got left and I don't want you dying too."  
For a second Cas' eyes met his then, for once, Cas broke contact. "We are all dying Dean. And, unless the government starts providing, your brother might outlive us all." Trust Cas to put an even more depressing spin on it but Dean couldn't deny it was true. Every week he was getting less and less money and buying less and less food. Soon he wouldn't be able to provide for the both of them and then one would have to go hungry and that sure as hell wouldn't be Sammy. It was only then that he realised that might be the position his friend was in now.

When they arrived back at the shelter, it surprised Dean to see Sammy laughing. Obviously Gabriel had been cracking jokes and, for a second, the happiness was picturesque. He smiled at Cas who returned a knowing look. He and Dean understood what Sam and Gabriel had was special and neither of them wanted to break it.  
Dean eventually coughed and Gabriel started. Then, realising it was just Dean, put on a cocky smile again and approached the boys. "Have a nice walk to the well?" He said, waggling his eyebrows. Both Cas and Dean knew what he was hinting at and Cas made a point of rolling his eyes at Dean before replying, "yes, thank you Gabriel. It was very pleasant. Now, where should I put the barrel down?" Dean pointed to a corner of the hut and the trio made there way there. Once the barrels were down, Gabriel immediately took a cup of water from one of them and returned to Sammy's side, ready to administer him the pills.  
After he had gone, Dean grabbed Cas' all too skinny wrist and sat him at the tiny, makeshift dinner table that Dean had built when he was just eight. "Are you alright, Dean?"  
"Cas, I've got a plan. I meant to tell you on the walk to the well but I forgot."  
"Dean, a plan for what?" For a while now Dean had noticed how much Cas said his name in sentences, but he didn't complain. He like the way his friend said it, his voice deep and strong. It was almost as if it made Dean feel safe for a fraction of a second. But he quickly pushed this out of his mind and got with telling Cas his 'plan'.  
"I've been thinking, just out of town there is that massive farm, you know the one I mean." Castiel knew all too well. It was owned by one of the richest men in the city and they grew and bred all sorts on it, from chickens to goats to maize. It was conveniently placed just outside the shanty town with high fences all round, serving as a reminder of what all those in poverty didn't have. The owner was one of the largest exporters in the country and mainly brought in his own workers but he did offer some slum residents a 'job', although it might as well have been slavery by the amount they were paid. For a short time, when he was 13, Balthazar worked there and Cas still remembered having to tend to his whiplash wounds every time he came home holding barely a handful of coins.  
"Well, they have an abundance of food there that they shove in our faces every day." Dean had continued. "I just don't think they would notice if a chicken or two, or a bit of maize went missing."  
"You can't seriously be suggesting we steal from them, can you?"  
"Why not, Cas? It's right there, staring us in the face while we all starve to death. You can't possibly argue morality to that."  
"I don't argue morality, Dean. I argue impossibility. The fence is 10ft high alone and then there are the guards. And if we got caught, what would happen to our families then?" They were talking in harsh whispers now, so as not to let their brothers hear.  
"But think what would happen to our families if we didn't get caught? We might be able to feed them for months. And I have found a break in the fence."  
Cas just scowled and flicked his eyes away from Dean. What Dean was suggesting, it was wrong and foolish, right?  
"Whatever, Cas. If you don't want to come, I'm going alone anyway." He sulked and made a move to leave the table, but suddenly a firm grip caught on his wrist. Their eyes met, expression deadly serious.  
"You're not going without me."

*****

It was midnight when Dean crept out, after checking Sammy was sleeping soundly. He ran to meet Cas on the makeshift pitch, which they hadn't played on for nearly two months, and Cas was, of course, already there. He was never late.  
"Dean, you know I still think this is a bad idea."  
"Come on Cas, you sourpuss. You have to admit that some part of you feels slightly excited. It's like we are going on an adventure, like that guy from that book your sister stole... what was his name?"  
"Tom Sawyer? Or Huckleberry Finn?"  
"Yeah, both of them."  
"Dean this is nothing like The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. We are stealing food to help our families, that's all." Although he couldn't help but smile when Dean's face shone at the idea of an adventure. He always had been the adventurous one of the pair.  
When Cas was six, he started visiting the hospice with his mum, where they had a small library. He would frequently steal books full of adventure for Dean to read and he loved the way Dean would lose himself in them and, a few days later, come running to his hut, a toothy grin from ear to ear, to tell him all about the story. He would talk for hours about the adventures he would be having when he grew up; the pirate ship they would steal and sail the seven seas, the forests they would battle through to find ancient temples, and the battles they would fight to be the heroes, while Cas sat and listened. It all seemed ridiculous now but he still smiled at the memory.

"Hey, Cas. Earth to Castiel. You still with me?" Dean said waving his hand in front of Cas' face. He was used to the blue-eyed boy spacing out at strange times but right now, it was not helpful.  
Cas shook his head like he was waking up from a dream, "Uh, yeah, sorry. Was thinking." He managed to mumble.  
"Come on, Dreamer Boy, let's get going before morning comes." He put a hand on Cas' bare arm and practically dragged him towards the farm fence.

After walking half a mile through the cramped streets lined with huts that fit together about as well as mismatched jigsaw pieces, Cas and Dean reached the edge of the slum, where they were faced with the 10ft high mesh. Dressed in the darkest clothing they could find, which, for Cas, had been his father's old t-shirt, meaning it was way too big for him and hung loosely off his small frame, they looked like pretty crap criminals. But what they were doing wasn't a crime, Cas had to keep repeating to himself.  
"The hole is this way." Dean hissed, and they set off, keeping low so that the guards torches couldn't find them.  
When they reached the breach in the fence, they had to hide behind a bush for a minute while they waited for the night guard to move on. Cas found himself shaking.  
"You cold?" Dean whispered.  
"N-Nervous, I guess."  
"Well don't be. Remember, after tonight our families needn't be hungry for months to come." Dean grinned at his friend and his eyes gleamed with anticipation in the moonlight. Dean was right, this was the perfect opportunity for them. Cas returned Dean's smile.  
"You're right. It is a bit like an adventure after all, isn't it?"  
"You bet." Cas felt Dean squeeze his hand in excitement and he suddenly realised he had no idea at what point he had started holding hands with his best friend, but he wasn't about to complain.  
"Right, the guards gone. From my calculations, we have about 4 minutes before he returns." There was a pause.  
"Dean, you haven't made any calculations, have you?"  
"No, I just thought it sounded cool." Dean grinned again, although this time more playfully. Cas almost laughed, but then remembered they needed to be quiet, so opted for punching Dean instead.  
"Come on, you assbutt. Let's just go."

They scrambled through the hole and Cas cursed as he felt the sharp edges of the fence catch his shirt.  
"You alright?" Dean turned, shining the light of his army torch (given to him by his dad) in Cas' eyes.  
"Yeah, just got caught." This answer satisfied Dean and he turned and carried on into the farm.

"Woah, Cas. Would'y look at this?" Dean stopped suddenly, "Have you ever seen so much for the picking?" Cas looked around at what the feeble light of Dean's torch could pick out, and he had to put a hand on his stomach to keep it from rumbling.  
They had obviously stumbled into one of the farms food stores, where things were boxed before being exported, and there was food good enough for a King's feast surrounding them. On one side, stacked on shelves, was maize, sugar cane, bananas, wheat, lemons and other fruits that Cas couldn't even name. On the other, in huge, clear industrial refrigerators, stood all kinds of meats, from beef to goat to chicken to ostrich (or at least that was what it said on the label). Dean felt his mouth begin to water.  
"Quick Cas, we better start filling the bags before the guard returns." Dean said after finally coming to his senses.  
The two boys went into frenzy, grabbing everything they possibly could until their bags were almost too heavy to carry. Cas was knelt down, just shoving the last oranges he could manage into his already near-to-bursting sack, when he heard a loud **click-click** above his head. He looked up to find himself staring down the barrel of a cocked and loaded gun. 

"You might want to put that bag down, boy." Growled the guard standing above Castiel.  
"I-uh-um." Cas lowered the bag, his movements slow and careful, but still the last few oranges rolled out.  
"You want to explain what you're doing here? Slum-scum." With the last insult he spat at Cas, and the poor boy had to wipe a globule of saliva from his cheek with the back of his hand. He grimaced.  
"You better speak kid because, believe me, I am quite happy to use these bullets on you."  
Cas' throat felt as though it was full of cotton wool. He couldn't choke a syllable out, let alone a word.  
The guards patience grew thin and, growing tired of this boys choking, he landed a hard, sharp blow on Cas' head with the butt of his gun. Cas felt pain shoot through to his brain, then his vision went black at the edges and he fell to the ground. 

Dean had been watching from the shadows, his heart in his mouth. He wanted to run over, to throw himself in front of the gun, to help his friend in any way, but he couldn't move. It was like his legs were glued to the ground. He could hardly breathe.  
That was until he saw Cas fall. Then his whole body jerked into action and he was running towards the guard. He had grabbed a knife from the slaughtering table in the corner and now he brandished it like a weapon, his only defence against the gun carrying, highly trained guard ahead of him. The guard who had just killed his best friend.  
Before Dean even knew what was happening, he had tackled the guard to the floor and had a knife at his throat.  
The man's face was contorted with fear and silent pleas but Dean couldn't bring himself to care. His judgement was clouded with pure white rage and, without a second thought, he slammed the knife into the guy's chest. The body twitched, before lying still.

Dean ran over to Cas' body, clutching the boys bloodied face in his hands. "Cas? Oh god, Cas. Please don't be dead. I'm begging you, don't be dead." Tears streamed freely down Dean's cheeks as he held the limp frame in his arms.

After what felt like an eternity, Cas' eyes blinked open. "Dean?" Never in his life had Dean been so glad to see those big, bright sapphires staring up at him and he couldn't help himself. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Cas'. For a second the boy in his arms was startled but then he relaxed into the kiss, bring his shaky hand up to rest in Dean's hair. The kiss was short but so much ran through it and, when Dean withdrew, both boys felt a fire light in their stomachs.  
Dean let their foreheads rest together and Cas could still taste the salt of his best friend's tears on his lips. "Oh god, Cas. I thought you were dead." Dean's voice was shaky, "I thought- just don't do that to me ever again, alright? Crap Cas, what would I have done without you?" Fresh tears started rolling down Dean's cheeks. "I-I need you, man." Cas pulled Dean down into another kiss before sitting up and wiping away Dean's tears with gentle hands. He didn't say a word but he didn't need to.  
For a while they just sat there facing each other, their legs intertwined. All they could really make out in the darkness was the reflection of the distant moonlight shining in each others eyes but that was enough. It had always been enough. And neither of them wanted to move.

That was until Dean caught sight of the silhouette of the corpse in the background. It felt like the full force of a train hitting him when he remembered what he had done and he sat there winded, not able to speak, his wide eyes staring blindly at the man he had killed.  
It took Cas a minute to realise that Dean was shaking violently, but when he did a feeling of dread settled in his stomach. He turned to follow Dean's gaze but could only just make out the outline of the body. After turning back to the shaking boy, he finally spoke. "Dean, what is it?"  
Dean made a choking noise in his throat, gasped for air and then, without shifting his gaze back to Cas: "Oh god, Cas. What have I done?"

*****

When Castiel walked in early that morning, head covered in blood, gripping Dean Winchester's hand (who looked absolutely mortified), and dragging two great sacks behind him, Michael didn't know what to think. He wanted to tell them off for running out in the night, but, when he saw Cas' injury and the expressions on the two teenager's faces, his mind was clouded with worry. Instead he just shouted for his brother, "Gabriel!", which, incidentally, woke the whole hut up.  
Gabriel walked down from the hut's 'bedroom' (a wooden platform, fitted above the living space, that was big enough to host seven rough straw mattresses) half dressed in an old t-shirt and underwear, rubbing his tired eyes in an attempt to wake up. "What is it, Mike-" He spotted his bloodied brother. "Cassie?!" His eyes widened even more when he saw that his brother was swaying, exhausted and about to pass out.  
It was Dean who caught Cas. Snapped out of his shock for a moment as he felt the full weight of his partners body pushing against his shoulder, he turned on impulse, caught Cas neatly under the arms, and supported him to the floor. 

When Castiel's eyelids flickered open he found two pairs of concerned blue eyes peering at him. One set belonged to his older brother, Michael, who quickly steeled his expression, after all he was supposed to be mad at the kid for sneaking out. The other belonged to his younger brother, Balthazar, "Ah, good, Cassie, you're awake." And the 17 year old continued to roughly bath the sweat on Cas' brow. The patient put a hand to his head to find the wound had been dressed and bandaged. Gabriel's handiwork he would wager. No way Balthazar, or even Michael had careful enough hands to do that.  
After realising his head wound was okay, Cas tried to sit up but, as he did, the pain returned, in a sudden flare, to his head, stars jumped before his eyes and he felt like he was going to throw up. A rough hand pushed him back down and he lay there, wincing as the pain gradually danced away again.  
It was only then that he became aware of the noise in the hut:  
"I want my orange, Raphi. Gimme my orange."  
"Haha, no Anna. You have to jump for it."  
"Anna just take another one."  
"This is mine, all mine. I call dibs."  
"Luci, that's the Winchester's food. Here Sammy, take an apple. You need to keep up your strength."  
Gabriel was running around the hut trying to put all the food away and keep his brother and sisters from eating it all at once.  
"You can all have one piece of fruit now. The rest needs to be saved for later."  
"Yeah, Raphi. _One_ piece of fruit. And **I want my apple!!** "  
Raphael just laughed, tossed the piece of fruit to his sister, and sat down with his own orange. Luci still wanted to cause chaos though; moving things so Gabriel would trip over them and then laughing when he did. Sammy laughed too and this made the tripping over worth it. 

Although Cas couldn't see the scene below him, just hearing it made him smile.  
"Cas, what you did was stupid and you could have gotten yourself killed. Don't _ever_ do that again, you hear?" Michael put on his best father impression and his stern expression scared Cas a little. But then, after a second, it softened. "On the other hand," he paused, "this is the happiest I have heard them since... well, a while ago. So, while I really don't want to know where you got the food from, little brother, (though I have my suspicions) I guess I should be thanking you."  
"So you're not mad, Michael?"  
"Oh god, I am beyond mad. But now is not the time for anger, so I'm letting you get away with it."  
There was a pause where Cas and Michael shared a smile and Balthazar went downstairs to get more water. Then Cas realised there was one voice he couldn't hear.  
"Hey, Michael. Where's Dean?"  
Michael's expression turned grave before he nodded his head to a couple of beds over. "He passed out not long after you. He was mortified, the poor boy. No idea why, although I suppose you do. He's been twisting and turning in his sleep for the past hour."  
Cas' eyes widened and he twisted his neck round to see his friends shifting shape on the next mattress but one. The injured boy tried to get up again, this time propping himself up on one elbow slowly, to minimise the pain. He carefully made his way across to Dean's side, Michael steadying him so he wouldn't fall. His head hurt, but he ignored it. Right now, he just needed to get to his best friend.  
When they reached Dean, Michael looked his brother in the eye, nodded, and made his way down the rough wooden steps to join the others. 

"Dean? Dean, wake up. Please Dean." Cas planted a kiss on Dean's moving forehead and gradually the boy steadied and his breathing became more controlled.  
Cas sat there for a while, clutching Dean's hand to his chest, before, finally, the pair of emerald green eyes fluttered open. "Cas?" Dean choked.  
"Yeah, I'm here Dean." There was a pause.  
"You know that bandage makes you look like a martial arts expert, right?" Dean smiled, tiredly.

Cas laughed. His worries that Dean would be changed after the previous night were gradually washed away by his laughter.

After about 15 minutes of gazing into one another's eyes, softly kissing and Dean making strings of comments to make Cas laugh (oh how he loved that laughter), the two boys came down to join the others. "Cassie!" Anna squealed and ran into her brother's arms. Cas stooped down and picked her up, bouncing her to make her squeal with laughter. He noticed that Gabriel was sat with Sam at the table, and they were holding hands. Sammy looked bright; the pills Gabriel was administering must have been working. Even Raphael looked happy for once.  
It didn't matter that his head hurt, because he was surrounded by smiling family, friends and, he thought as he felt Dean squeeze his arm, his boyfriend. Cas could only smile at the thought of finally, after 18 long years of friendship, being able to call him that.  
Dean had been right. For the first time in a long while, things were good.

*****

BANG. BANG. BANG.  
BANG. BANG. BANG.  
It sounded like someone was trying knock Dean's door down. He ran to open it, still in his boxers and t-shirt sleeping combination.  
"Can I help you?" He asked sleepily, before really looking at who was on the other side. But then he felt his stomach drop as he realised. He was staring into the faces of three burly police officers dressed in black, bullet proof uniforms, scarves wrapped around their faces and machine guns in their hands.  
"We're looking for Novak. Castiel Novak." They held up a piece of black fabric with a label attached. 'Property of Castiel Novak.'  
Crap, Cas' shirt had snagged when they went through the fence. Crap. Why did it have to be the bit with the label that ripped off? And why did that idiot have to label all his clothes anyway? It wasn't like anybody would want to steal them.  
Dean's stomach was full on turning now and he wanted to throw up. Trust Sammy to pick that time to pitch up, rubbing his hollowed eyes with the heel of his hand. "Dean, what's going on?"  
"These officers were just asking if we knew anyone by the name of Novak, which we don't, do we Sammy?" He desperately hoped his voice wasn't too shaky and that Sam got the look he had thrown at him. Evidently he had as he replied with; "No, Dean, I don't think I've ever heard that name before."  
The officers seem satisfied with this, either that or they could see Sammy had the sickness and had chosen to move on out of pity. After they left, Dean leant against the back of the closed door, hyperventilating. Cas. They were looking for Cas. And he was having a panic attack. He needed to get to the Novak's as soon as possible. He looked up, his eyes meeting Sam's.  
"Dean, what's going on?" Of course, Dean had never told Sammy what happened that night. His brother didn't need to know that the boy, who was supposed to be his role model, had killed a man.  
"Nothing, Sammy, don't worry about it."  
"Dean." This was his brother's 'I-know-there-is-something-going-on-and-I-am-warning-you-to-tell-me-or-else' voice but Dean knew the slim boy had no leverage, so ignored it. He threw on some pants and made for the door.  
"Look, Sammy, I will explain later, alright? Right now I gotta get to Cas. You just stay here. Gabriel'll be round to give you your pills in a bit, alright?" Sam knew something was deeply wrong but he didn't pry any further. Instead he just nodded solemnly and watched his big brother run out the door.

"Cas! Cas! Open up! I gotta talk to you!" Dean knocked frantically at the Novak's corrugated iron front door, every beat making a tinny sound that resounded through the hut. After what seemed like a lifetime, a familiar pair of sleepy blue eyes peered round the metal and looked straight at Dean.  
Cas immediately knew something was wrong when he saw Dean's face. "Just let me put on some pants, then I'll come out, okay?" Dean nodded and Cas disappeared into the house again. When he came back out he was fully dressed and wearing a worried expression.  
"Dean, what is it?" Cas asked, his tired eyes squinting at the early morning sunshine.  
"Cas, there are officers. They are asking for you. I-I think they think you killed the guard." The last words came out as a choked sob and Cas pulled Dean into a tight hug, desperately trying to comfort his boyfriend, in spite of the fact that he might be the one facing the death penalty.  
Cas' heart started racing at the thought but, a few deep breaths later, he calmed himself and withdrew from the hug, leaving his hands on Dean's shoulders. He could see tears lining up and preparing themselves to charge down Dean's face but he did his best to keep his expression calm and steady, otherwise he might lose it.  
"Cas, they're gonna find you and there is nothing I can do to stop it. They're gonna take you away, Cas, and it's all my fault." Tears were free-falling down Dean's cheeks now and it was all Cas could do not to cry with him.  
Rendered speechless by the watery green eyes that stood before him, a couple of inches higher than his bright blues, Cas just gripped Dean's arm and took him into the hut. They both knew what this meant. Cas wanted to say his goodbyes. 

As they entered the hut, Anna came running towards them. Cas swept her up and she giggled. Cas smiled. She was beginning to put on weight already and her ribs were now only just visible. She wriggled and he let her go run towards Michael, still laughing.  
"We got another mouth for breakfast?" Michael called from the table and, for once, that question didn't come with a hint of resentment.  
"Dean and I probably won't be staying for breakfast, Michael, but thanks anyway."  
"Well at least take some bread for the road." Michael figured they were probably just going for a walk. It wasn't unusual.  
"Hey, Cassie, if you're walking by the Harvelle's, be sure to give this to Ash for me? After, you know, that terrible thing with his sister, I promised him a free one." And Balthazar handed Cas a handset as he made his way to the table. Cas pocketed it. He had to make it look as though everything was normal.  
"Hey, Dean! How's Sammy this morning?" Gabriel grinned, coming towards them.  
"He's okay Gabriel. Looking forward to seeing you though." Gabriel's grin widened and Cas couldn't help himself. He pulled Gabriel into a tight hug, before releasing and looking away.  
"What was that for, Cassie? Not like you to be the affectionate one. Well, except for with Dean-o over here, if you know what I mean." He winked and laughed, before going over to the table to help set things out. He would go visit Sammy after breakfast.  
It was then that Raphael came thumping down the stairs, humming gently to himself. Luci was hot on his heels. She almost had her hand to his pocket but then Raphael reached out at the last minute and grabbed her wrist, without even looking. "No, Luci. For the 15th time this week, you are not pickpocketing me."  
"Ohhh." Luci groaned. "You're no fun." She skipped off to try someone else but all her siblings were all too aware of her 'fun' and kept their eyes on their belongings at all times. Well, all except Anna, but she had nothing worth pinching. Raphael just rolled his eyes at Cas, before continuing to breakfast.  
The scene looked so... normal, and he wished he could just slip into the picture and pretend everything was totally ordinary but he had an inevitable fate to meet, and he didn't want to do it in front of his family.  
He felt Dean's hand on his arm and he let it gently guide him out. He couldn't look back now. 

Outside the hut again, Cas finally couldn't hold back the tears any longer and it was like the blue of his eyes had become a waterfall. Dean still held him. He would never let go, if that's what it took, but the water kept flowing.  
"Oh god, Cas. I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry." But there weren't enough apologies in the world for Dean to forgive what he had done. "We can tell 'em. Tell 'em it was all me. Let them take me Cas. I'm the one who needs to pay. Not you." Cas just shook his head.  
"No, Dean. You die, Sammy will be left alone. He needs you to look after him, be there for him. He hasn't got anyone else. Not even Gabriel can fill that role."  
"You have family too, Cas. Look at them. They need you."  
"No, Dean. In a house full of seven, I am just another mouth to feed. They will have each other, comfort each other. They don't need me like your brother needs you." Cas' expression was resolute and Dean knew this would be the last word on the matter but still he tried to form a feeble argument, through the tears.  
"Cas, I- Shit. They're here." Dean had spotted the three armed guards coming around the corner. "Cas, if you run-"  
"No. Dean, they will just shoot me dead in the street." Cas closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. When he opened them again, his bright blue eyes were desperate. He dragged Dean in for one last sweet kiss. There was something very final about the way their mouths touched and when they stopped they left their foreheads pressed together, Cas' hands intertwined with Dean's hair. "Goodbye, Dean." Cas whispered and he stepped back, taking one last look. He would probably never see those green eyes again. 

"There he is!" There was a shout from one of the guards and Cas heard three sets of pounding feet approaching, fast. Next thing he knew, his hands were pinned behind his back. On impulse, he struggled against his captors, but this only earned him a black eye.  
Dean had promised himself he wouldn't do it, he wouldn't intervene on Cas' wishes but he couldn't stand there.  
He ran up to the officers, trying to tear them off Cas, shouting, "Stop! Please, he didn't do it. It was me! I killed him. It was me." But the officer just pushed him roughly away and he landed hard on a sack of potatoes lying outside someone's door. He couldn't move for being winded and his eyes met Cas'. Things suddenly seemed to go in slow motion.  
There was a bang as the Novak hut door was flung open and out ran Luci, laughing gleefully, holding a bunch of apples that she had stolen. Both Cas and Dean's gaze whipped round to her and Cas' eyes widened in horror. She couldn't see him like this.  
It was too late. Luci looked up and, upon seeing her brother being dragged away, she let the apples fall, thudding to the ground. Her eyes went wide and she let out an ear piercing scream.  
The rest of the family ran out to see the cause of Luci's anguish and Cas saw them all realise what was happening at once. Several things then seemed to happen; Gabriel grabbed Anna and gave her to Raphael to take inside, who then ran in, hiding his sister's eyes from the sight. Gabriel and Michael then launched themselves forward, running at full pace to their brother, but they met a similar fate to Dean. Gabriel was knocked out with a hard punch to his jaw as he tried to pull Cas away. Michael, who was stronger, however, lasted a little longer before he, too, was sent flying into the nearest hut's wall. Balthazar just stood, his arm around Luci, not able to move. All Cas could do was watch as they all fell out of sight and he was dragged towards the city.

*****

The next morning, Dean woke in cold sweat. He felt tears running down his face and he was panting. It took him a minute to readjust to his surroundings and remember where he was and what day it was. When he realised, he almost wished he was back in his nightmare. Something he could wake up from. But he had to face the truth. He, Dean Winchester, was in his hut and the day was the execution day of the boy he loved.  
Generally the time between arrest and being publicly shot was longer because they had to conduct a trial but they didn't bother with trials for 'slum-scum'. If they had just one piece of evidence, they would shoot them the next day. Honestly, the government were just glad to get rid of them.  
Dean wanted to throw up, but he just sat there shaking, rocking himself back and forth. This was all his fault. This was all his fault. This was all his fault.

Cas sat in his cell. He hadn't said a word to the guards since being there. He had nothing to say. Unfortunately, the guards took his miserable silence as an opportunity to beat him and he hadn't slept all night due to the pain in his cracked ribs. He waited. He would be dead soon. Dead soon.

There was a sharp knock at Dean's door and Dean opened it, fully dressed this time. Again there was an officer behind it but, this time, behind him stood the three oldest Novak brothers (excluding Cas) and one other officer. This law excluded all females and Raphael had been allowed to stay and look after the two girls. "Dean Winchester. You and your brother are required to watch the public execution of Castiel Novak due to known association and fraternisation with the assailant."  
Crap. He never read the law on this. Was there law on this? He couldn't do this. If he had to watch Cas being shot, Dean was afraid he might kill himself. But he and his brother had no choice as the were led from their homes with the Novak brothers, who all looked as messed up and tired as he was. No one had slept well.

The keys clicked in the lock as Cas' holding cell was opened. Chains were attached to his wrists and he was led from the prison like a dog. He could feel his heart beating in his chest. He didn't want to die.  
His eyes remained dry though, he had no tears left to cry. And if he was to be publicly executed, he would be sure that he went out standing strong. He had never been one to bow down to the oppressors, even though he had never done anything actively against it, and he was not about to start bowing now, just before his death. 

The place of the execution was a circular clearing in the city. Executions were so popular here that tiered seating lined the area. Standing in the middle, cold and lonely, stood the wooden pole. That was where they tied the criminal's hands so they couldn't run from the single bullet that would be sent straight through their heart.  
The gate at the back of the circle swung open and, surrounded by four guards, in walked Cas. His hair stuck up in all directions and he had huge bags under his eyes (one of which was black with bruising) but still he walked tall. He was sturdy like a rock and, although he allowed them to tie his hands above his head, he would not budge when the guards pushed him or shoved him. Just like Cas, Dean thought, defiant until the end. 

Cas couldn't help but let his gaze wonder the arena when his hands had been tied. He was a lowly slum boy, yet still so many had turned out to watch him die. Were all the classes above so twisted?  
Then he caught sight of his brothers. His stomach did a flip and he started shaking. What were they doing here? They couldn't see this. It would ruin them. Only now did he remember the law that required anybody who had fraternised with the soon-to-be-deceased to watch the execution as punishment. He could have kicked himself.  
Dean was there too. Cas knew he would be watching him, his face twisted with angst, but he couldn't bring himself to make Dean's eye contact. He knew if he did he would break. He would shatter into a thousand pieces. But he had to stay strong. 

Dean watched as the four guards came to stand in front of Cas, about 10ft away. One of them had his pistol at the ready, to deliver Cas his final death omen before he would be raised from this world and into the next. 

_Ready?_

Michael held Balthazar's shoulders as the younger Novak closed his eyes. Gabriel put his arm round Sam, bringing the boy into his chest and covering his face. He was too young to see this.  
And Dean? Dean prepared himself to do something ridiculous, crazy, stupid and downright insane. 

_Aim._

Dean didn't think. He just did.  
His legs straightened and he launched himself into the arena, between Cas and the gun. He ran up to his boyfriend and, standing with his back directly facing the gun's barrel, he kissed him. A short desperate kiss to mark their final moments together. Finally certain that this was what he wanted to do, Dean's assured green eyes met Cas' scared blue ones. 

_Fire!_

The whole world slowed down around the pair stood in the firing line. Their eyes locked and for a second the whole world stood still. Neither of them said a thing.  
Then the bullet pierced through Dean's back and the momentum sent him flying forward, hands still tangled in Cas' hair. The bullet continued it's path through, however and stopped embedded in Cas' chest. As their two blood streams became one and vision started closing around them, Dean, watching the bright blue light grow dimmer in his love's eyes, whispered, "You're not going without me." 

*****

_O Child of Adam_  
_Child of Eve_  
_You stood there too long_  
_You were taken too easily_

_O Midnight_  
_Why take my child from me?_  
_Did I stand there too long?_  
_They were taken too easily_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading the fic and I really hope you aren't too sad right now (although if you are that hopefully means it was well written.... or really poorly written, but we don't think about that).
> 
> I just wanted you to know that I am currently writing my little made up 'mourning song' until a real song and I will post the link here when I'm done so you get an idea of what it would've sounded like.
> 
> EDIT: I have now posted the beta test of the 'mourning song' 'O Midnight' on my tumblr [here](http://guesswhofell-itscastiel.tumblr.com/post/120298621448/ok-so-this-is-the-taster-track-for-my-first-ever)


End file.
